I'm Telling God

By J.B. Cole

I’m Telling God is written by a child of God who struggles with everyday life because of the turmoil the author has faced since childhood. Amid the struggles, the author is able to share the tools that has helped her to overcome the anxiety and fear associated with the trauma in her life. These same tools have strengthened her relationship with others and, more importantly, with God. This is a life that can’t be kept a secret.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639038022

Book preview

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I’m Angry

Oftentimes, it doesn’t take much to make one angry. Topics like politics really strike a chord with many of us. When it comes right down to it, anger is much more than just a topic of discussion. When being used as a verb, the word anger is defined by Google as fill (someone) with anger; provoke anger in, meaning that we would use the term anger in the form of I did…because I was angry about/with… When in the context of a noun, anger can be described as a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility. This form allows us to put name to an emotion we are experiencing.

When we talk about anger in this book, we will reference both definitions of anger. Both stand strong on their own and contain a lot of meaning behind the few words that describe the word essentially. One thing I want to address right away about anger is that no matter which version or context we use it, anger is simply a mask for all other emotions. When we experience deep pain and hurt, we put on this mask that we try to play off as the I’m fine mask. Really, anger is boiling quicker than a pot of water being watched. The way to control our anger is beginning with the knowledge that we use it to hide other emotions that we either don’t know what to do with or don’t trust others to experience alongside us.

It comes out as lashing out, saying harsh words, being red-faced and ignorant, for which we usually feel extremely guilty after the fact. We soon realize that we were angry because of an emotion caused by a situation that didn’t go as planned. This is the game of hindsight and cause and effect. The great thing is there are ways to control anger before we become angry. Side note: it is not learned or established overnight. I am still learning this and implementing what I am learning about anger and the fun cocktail of myself mixed with anger.

The first thing to do is simply label your emotions as they are. There was a moment in time when I used anger as a defense. My marriage was in a craphole, and I knew nothing I could do would save it. My oldest son was probably a year to a year and half. One night, I was trying to get him to sleep. My ex-husband was at work. This was part of the five months out of five years we were married that he actually worked. He went out with the boys after work, which wasn’t an issue. Aggravating? Yes. However, it was not the overall problem I had, which led to later hurtful events that left me angry. He came home around midnight. This was also not the problem. It only contributed to the issue. Trust me, I am about to give you the real problem. The real issue was I was still trying to get my son to sleep that night. He was restless, and I was becoming annoyed. My ex-husband came into the bedroom and jumped on the bed, and I simply pushed him off so his six-foot-three-inch stature at roughly 289 pounds didn’t land on my son, who was obviously much smaller than him. The next issue was he was drunk and high. He became angry because I pushed him away, not realizing our son was lying in the bed and he could have crushed him. Because he was drunk, I would have considered him deadweight if I allowed him to land.

At this point, he stormed off to the living room and blasted the TV volume at 100. Keep in mind that my son was still not asleep. So I did what I did best in a highly unhappy marriage. I popped off, telling him he was selfish and that I was leaving. When they say don’t poke the bear, they literally mean don’t poke the bear! I not only poked but prodded. I struck a nerve. He got up off that red couch and made his way to where the kitchen met the living room. I was grabbing my keys off the counter. He left no room between us as he towered over me. He started in on me by calling me worthless, that I could never get anything right and I never would. Of course, being drunk, he kept hitting that big red button; he called me a cunt. If I wasn’t red-faced and boiling with anger before then, I certainly was at that point.

I reached my right hand up, with my son in my left arm, and I slapped him. I cried angry tears and screamed you don’t ever talk to me like that again. He would indeed speak to me again that way. I stormed off to get in my car and leave. He stormed behind me, not allowing me to get in my car, yelling he wouldn’t let me take his son anywhere. More specifically, we weren’t allowed to go to my mother’s house. Let’s go ahead and get the truth out. He hated her, and the feeling was mutual. I then decided to use a weapon that I was not proud to use nor did I really want to use. I called my uncle who happened to be the sheriff as well. He lived a few miles down the road. Luckily, he answered at such a late hour.

By the time he arrived at our house, my ex-husband was standing in front of the back door of the car and my son was screaming. I felt guilty and just wanted the night, and honestly, my marriage to be over. I was exhausted from fighting every single day. My uncle asked me if I wanted to leave. I said, Yes, I do. He told my ex-husband to step out of the way so I could leave. He moved to the steps of our two-bedroom, one-bath, white house. He started telling my uncle that I slapped him and left a mark. I didn’t stay for any more of his theatrics. I was in no mood for a show to start so late after dinner.

I drove to my grandfather’s church. My plan was to sleep in my car in the church parking lot. I could never get comfortable in my seat. I knew that my son couldn’t stay in his car seat and sleep comfortably either. As any angry person who had just experienced one of the most exhausting nights of her life would, I yelled at God.

I was so angry. There were not enough adjectives to describe how angry and mad I was. Looking back, I can label that moment correctly as deeply hurt. It was just easier to say I was angry. This man whom I was supposed to be in love with and vice versa was calling me names in front of my son. I raised my hand in retaliation to his words and brought physical harm to him in front of my son. I don’t think anyone would tell me that I didn’t have a right to be angry, but I know, especially now, that wasn’t the way to handle it.

As I continued to sit in my car, I was weeping with hurt and masking it with anger, yelling at God and accusing him of leaving me in such an abusive marriage. I told him I thought he wanted better for me. I threw his own words back in his face, Jeremiah 29:11 to be specific. I yelled words exuding hatred at God. I all but straight up told him I hated him. I knew at the end of it all, I would choose to stay. I knew the reasons I was staying too. It was simply my pride, as well as my drive to prove everyone wrong. This part we will visit later.

In my moments of yelling in this church parking lot, God had a way of gently reminding me that he was under control. If I just trusted him, he would work it all out and protect me. I knew trusting him was the right answer, but I also knew that it wasn’t going to change my emotions. One reason